


The devil has the best tunes.

by Lady Lier (LadyZitle)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Classical Music, Gen, Historical, Literature, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyZitle/pseuds/Lady%20Lier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley wakes up to go to the lavatory on 1832, Aziraphale fills him up on the history of early 19 century and asks him to play the cello on Schubert's Ellens Gesang III for Cello and Piano (better known as Schubert’s Ave Maria). Somehow he accepts and ends up on Abbostsford home of Sir Walter Scott's family. They celebrate Earth's birthday no. 5836.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The devil has the best tunes.

**Author's Note:**

> I went to hear a cellist and piano on my city and the only thing in my head was this, then I started investigated and well I needed to make it more historical accurate. I had fun writing and learning so yeah.

 

You can hear the melody [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wabmGuviHkM).  
Read the song [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ave_Maria_\(Schubert\)).  
Abbostsford Place [here](http://www.scottsabbotsford.com/)

 

* * *

 

There was a knock on the front door.

The owner of the bookshop ignore it and kept to the book he was reading.

There was a second knock.

Someone out there really was ignoring the big “close” sign hanging on the door. “We are closed” Screamed Aziraphale.

The response was another knock, this time more frenetical. Leaving his book on the table, he went to the door and open it. He was about to burst into the annoying human that: he had so many things to do and no, he couldn't in any way help them today even though he would’ve love to… Except the annoying human was no human at all.

The figure that so desperately wanted to enter the establishment was non other than his swear enemy.

“Crowley! What are you… I thought… Yes… Come in, dear boy” The demon had gone to sleep about 20 years ago, and Aziraphale thought it would be far too long until he saw him again.

“Yeah well I had to got up, this body is too human even for me” Said Crowley pushing aside the angel and entering the bookshop.

Aziraphale look at him with inquisition. “Sorry?”

“The loo, Aziraphale”

“Oh! Right right! That is what happens when you use it to much like a human, sleeping and so on” Said the owner, closing the door and with a tone that suggested he would have never had that problem.

“If you ever sleep you would understand, besides I seem to recall you enjoy the eating and drinking parts of the humans just as much as I do” said Crowley with a yawn.

“Yes well, all in good moderation” said Aziraphale trying to sound as if that was in the rules. This was discarded when he pour two glasses of wine and put them on the table. “So what’s new?” Crowley said slitting into one of the chairs.

He had woken up that morning in his rich and big house, after 27 years of a good sleep his human body remembered him of the bottles of really good wine he and Aziraphale had had just before he went to sleep. His house was almost the same, except it had dust everywhere and some of the things where in really bad state, his green house as expected had grown in a frighten way, it look like a little jungle. But somehow there was a trail that went from his front door to his bedroom, and all the objects in that trail had some angelic light coming form them.

Aziraphale took the chair on the opposite side and said “Oh dear, where to begin, you went off when, 1809?”

“1805 angel” Corrected Crowley “The Battle of Trafalgar. I realised I haven’t enjoyed sleeping that well and after that bloody battle… all I wanted was to enjoy some of the pleasures of the world”

“Yes well, that incident led to a horrible set of wars all the way until 1815, that fella Napoleon was captured and he tried to escape, succeeded actually but then another battle this time on Waterloo and…”

“Yeah yeah an empire fell because one son of a bitch wanted more power for his tiny self, that happens every century” Interrupted Crowley as he poured their second glass.

“Well yes, humans tend to forget that.” Aziraphale said and with a smile added. “Actually a lot of the colonies of Spain had fought for their independence, so there goes the Spain empire and probably the French one”

“Nothing new then” Said Crowley a little too bitter.

Aziraphale look at him warily “There was also a horrible volcanic eruption, where was it, yes on the Dutch East Indies, wipe a whole civilisation, the Tambora people”

“Gosh! What did they do?” “This time was all nature my dear, it created a horrible long winter, actually, er” Aziraphale blush “I went to check on you. It was mid summer and there were riots for food and shelter, the cold was extreme, so I thought…”

“Yeah” said Crowley avoiding the angel’s eyes and scratching the back of his head“I felt something and when I woke up I notice some weird light on some of my stuff, thankssss”

“Don’t mention it, that was 10 years ago, mmm what else? Oh yes! “Aziraphale snapped and sat straight on this chair. “England has outlawed the trade of people! Can you believe it? After all this time!”

“Well good, good, about time, that is awful business, thinking that they belong to us just because of their colour, ignoring the work one has to put to gain a soul.” Crowley was really angry for this, he had work his ass of for five and a half millennia and then bam according to humans (some humans) they were all damn souls. Illogical. “Seems good things are happening, anything I can report as work for my side?”

“Well” answered the angel with a suspicious look “They outlaw the trading, but having slaves is still legal and there is this fella overseas in the United States of America, Smith, he had created a new church, Church of Christ, it’s their name. They claim to live by the true Christianity and maybe they try, but” he sigh “the only thing they are doing is scramble things and they are not really helping. Too much confrontation. That is bureaucracy and business for you”

“Ugh I hate dealing with sects, I can never follow with them”

“Yes it is difficult to keep tabs at them, also there is this thing the locomotive, awful things they are almost automatic with the use of coal, the first passenger railway was opened on ’25 goes from Stockton to Darlington, can you image in it? Putting all the people in one cart and sweep them away at that speed.” Aziraphale sounded terrified.

Crowley on the other side “Sounds like fun, no more need of horses eh, that’s good! And, er, how have you been?”

Aziraphale look at him studying his face “I have been… well, thank you dear boy, I was able to catch some beautiful first editions written by two marvellous women: Mary Shelley is one, her book Frankenstein is stunning, and the other lady, Jane Austen. Both had their first editions published anonymously sadly, but those ladies, they are a reflection of our society no doubt”

“Yeah, Frankenstein, I saw the name on that other bookshop. The one that do sells books” Crowley said with a smirk in his face. “Yes well, you know me, I like to be where the art is. And oh! Beethoven passed on 1827, poor old man.”

“Oh! That will make Downstairs happy, I think. He was not that old, you know as much as I do that humans bodies can live so much longer, if they take the appropriate care, but, well, where’s the fun in that.”

“Yes well, I suppose” Aziraphale was holding his glass on one hand and watching at it. “Remember we went to see him play his Moonlight Sonata?” Then he look directly at Crowley, granted at Crowley tinted glasses, and said “And, dear Schubert died the very next year, he was really young. 31 years old.”

“Who?” said Crowley “Oh! Franz Schubert, an amazing composer you should have meet him, he admired Beethoven” The moment had arrived. “I… Well actually at the end of this month.. Er.. I was going to play one part of his Opus, piano you see, but. Er, I was to leave this week, but you see, the cellist that was going to play with me lost his passage to England and well… Oh! Maybe you could, I know you can… If only you…”

“Oh!” burst Crowley “You bloody angel! Since when where you planning this?! No!”

“Crowley come on, you played amazingly back on 1790’s all those Bach suits, remember, Paris”

“That was different he was ours!”

“Well Schubert wasn't ours. So he must be Hell’s”

“No, I am going back to sleep, you won’t make a fool of me again” He stood up and started walking towards the door. Aziraphale catch his arm and trust into him a hand full of paper, the music sheet.

“Come on Crowley, at least look at the composition” Crowley looked at the music sheet, he read the notes and hummed them, they were really appealing, then he read the words on the first line: “Ave Maria! maiden mild!”

“What the hell Aziraphale! You can not ask me to play this” He said while moving his hand and pointing crazily at the sheets.

“Calm down you stupid demon! It’s not a prayer, is a poem about a prayer, The Lady of the Lake an epic poem “ Aziraphale explained a little pained.

“Then why?” Asked Crowley now reading the poem as it may attack him. Aziraphale took a large sigh and sat down again in his chair.

“Well, when you went away I befriend a wonderful writer and scholar he, well he passed away two weeks ago” he said caressing the book on the table.

Crowley glanced at the book. _“_ Ivanhoe _” Fuck_ he thought, Aziraphale was not one who took the lose of one of the buggers well. It was a good- - - convenient thing that he had woken up then. He stopped himself before the angel’s favourite word could loom up in his brain.

He tried to say I am sorry, but what came from his mouth was “Well mortals are bound to always go, you know that” Aziraphale new what the demon meant, he had lost humans before too.

“Anyway, Franz wrote his Opus 52, Ellens dritter Gesang” he said in perfect german accent “As a setting of seven songs from Walter’s poems”

“Ah”

“He was a good fella and well, I wanted to do a memoir for him and well I suppose for Franz too, I was scheduled to leave to Abbotsford, that is his residence up in Edinburg, to play one of the sonnet songs but I just receive news that the cellist wont be arriving in time” Aziraphale looked at Crowley considering his next words “You arriving at my door is quite convenient, ineffable you may say”

“Shut up” Crowley snapped. “So you wanted me to play this Opus 52”

“Not all of it! Dear Anne could never bear it but at least this one” “Ellen’s Third Song” recite Crowley “Why this one?” “As you can see is a song about a prayer, Ellen's prayer, everybody is preparing for battle, and marriages and funerals are put to a stop in order for war, Ellen is praying for his father life, he is an outlaw, and she is asking for their safety return. I think this will be a nice song for the Scotts, they are a nice family, I was planning to just play the melody, more intimate”

“Aggh I.. well I think if nobody is going to sing I could….”

“Oh! thank you Crowley”

“Fine, stop that, at what time do we leave?”

“We could leave tomorrow at 9:00am”

“3:00pm, I will ask for the carriage, be ready at 3 sharp with your ssstuff”

 

____________________

 

Aziraphale never excepted for Crowley to be on time, and obviously he wasn’t, the demon arrived at 5 o’clock with a car and a chauffeur, he was ready with his travel clothes and what it look like all his personal belongings, Aziraphale knew they weren't but Crowley was that type of “human”.

Aziraphale didn't liked humans that much, as an angel he had to love them but sometimes if the humans turn out to be book lovers just like him the likeness was stronger and acceptable. He hated most when they died so quickly, ineffable, he thought, they made there time on earth so important and they had the right to. Walter Scott’s family had always been good to him, and he had been there when Charlotte had died 6 years ago and their children and him were devastated. Walter was a more happy person with his books than anything else.

The voyage to Edinburg went quickly, they took the steam boat on the port of London and travel by sea to Scotland, Aziraphale took the change to put Crowley up with the family history, how Walter had married Charlotte after three weeks of knowing each other and how they had 4 surviving children, Sophia the eldest who played wonderfully the harp until she got married to John Lockhart, Walter who was a military man and had just married Jane Jobson, Anne the fragile child who took over the harp entertainment after Sophia married and dear Charles who was appointed in Naples by the British Embassy.

Most of the time they spend in the restaurant drinking and eating from the finest wine collection, Crowley’s influence on the crew of the boat.

They arrived at Edinburg and took another carriage to Abbadford the travel here was quickly but according to the demon boring. When they were about a mile from the place Crowley stretch out and look at the house.

“Wow! that is what I call a place to live”

“It is, he build it himself, well he was its engineer”

“It really remands you to the castles back there on 1600, doesn’t it”

They were being expected by the family butler, Sophia, John and Walter. It was John who helped the ethereal and occult forms out from the car.

“Thank you for coming Mr. Fell, I know my father in law would’ve want you here, but er, it was so sudden” And then reaching to Crowley “Hello, I’m John Lockhart my wife Sophia, daughter of Sir Walter Scott”

“Anthony Crowley a pleasure I’m sure”

After they made their presentations and where accommodated on their rooms they went down for dinner, the whole family was on the dinning room, all except from the children, the air on the family was so sad, Aziraphale had explained Crowley that the eldest son of Sophia and John had died just a year ago at 10 years old, and Scott dead had sadden them all the more.

Aziraphale was sited beside Sophia and the angelic light was glowing all over her, although the angel had started his friendship with the author for about 20 years now non of the family seem to bother that he hadn’t age that much, his human body was one of a 45 year old and he looked still strong.

Crowley was sited beside Walter and he was talking all about the military stuff, Crowley not being alert of the war business in this years was really interested in knowing what humans had came up with. He looked to the family as a young man, probably not more than 30 years old and not knowing about it was a little embarrassing.

“My sister explained to me you play the cello Mr. Crowley, but apparently you were not Fell’s first choice?” Walter asked with some intrigue.

“Nah, I was otherwise occupy but I found myself awaken and the opportunity for Ezra was just there” Crowley answered.

“It would be good for you to play tomorrow, it will be a month from my father’s death” Anne said with tears on her eyes.

“It is also sunday is it?, 21 of October, I like the date. It has a fine meaning for me too” Crowley said.

Aziraphale look up to Crowley’s face, it was really 21 of October, sunday, 5836 years of this God’s earth.

“My dear Anne I think you should go to sleep now, tomorrow we will prepare everything don’t you think Sophia?” the angel stated.

“Yes, well we should all go up, thank you gentleman” Sophia said.

The ladies leave the dinning room and the men went to the smoking room. Aziraphale took the opportunity to take his newly purchase sniff box and invited the rest to do the same.

“So, Fell, I am thinking of writing a biography of Sir Walter, do you have some anecdote that you could share? I understand you had know him for long?”

“Well yes but it was mostly academic for correspondence and some visits to his place on George Street, but I don’t think they would be of your interest, rather they were all about books, mostly old books. Actually do you mind if I wandered in his library for a bit?”

“Not at all Fell, not at all” said John understanding he wouldn't have any stories from him.

Aziraphale left the room and walked towards the library that Walter had collected over the years, some of the old books were his gifts but most of them were put together by the author himself,he stared reading some books, looking the covers of others, watchings the first editions of the poems and novels from the owner of that palace. He was like this for a while, not really noticing time moving, when the door creek open, he turn around and saw Crowley entering with two glasses and a bottle of wine in his hands.

“You stayed here all night” the demon said, opening the curtains and letting the sunlight enter “It is almost 8:45, I thought you would like to celebrate”

“Yes, thank you” Aziraphale took one glass on his hand and rase it to toast “Well here for 5836 years then”

“And at least another 5000 more” answer Crowley, they both click their glasses and drank. “Are you ready then? All the family is gathering now for breakfast, and this time is all the family, children and everything”

“Yes well they are to celebrate their grandfather too” They went to breakfast at 10, all of them were busy on their thoughts about the month that had passed without Sir Walter Scott, some chit chat was made and memories of the old Schubert and Scott was spread, young Charlotte of 5 years old asked what was the poem her grandpapa had written and his father who was also a book enthusiast explained it. She was happy about the story and was asking if she could hear it already, she was so instant that they decided to move immediately after to the Chinese Drawing Room for the guest to start playing.

The beautiful room with tapestry from china and where Sophia and Anne used to entertain with the harp was full of light that highlighted the green on the walls, they all took their sits. Walter and Anne were sat in the front and John and Sophia were sat behind, holding their son and daughter. Both the piano and the cello where waiting and Aziraphale haven’t stop saying thank you’s to Crowley.

“If you thank me one more time I swear, Aziraphale, I will discorporate you with my bare hands” Hissed Crowley. Aziraphale smile one last time to Crowley and enter the stage, followed immediately by the demon.

They both made a quick bow and went to their instruments. Aziraphale sat on the piano, caressing it carefully and started getting to know all its history, who made it, where it had been played before, and all the pieces it had play. He look directly at Crowley who was doing a similar assessment to the Cello. When he was also finish knowing everything there is to know about the instrument, he turned his head back to Aziraphale.

The angel began to move his fingers on the keys, on the piano, but it was more like the piano was making the sound itself, the way Aziraphale touched the keys, you would think no sound would be going out, but there it was, just as Schubert had meant it to sound, or even better. When the time arrived Crowley joined the notes with the Cello, he moved the bow so lightly and his fingers moved with the different notes just to accompany the angel’s piano.

Both hitting the music just so. Aziraphale, still playing beautifully the piano, watch and let himself be leaded by the Cello on Crowley’s hands. _He has always been an excellent musician, really understanding how the music enters the soul._ he thought It was a shame he didn’t liked to play for the people. The audience immediately understood what Mr. Fell wanted to show them, remembering the poet and friend, and father. Music was indeed the best way to express this day.

It was the turn for the piano to lead again and Crowley took a deep breath. _It feels peaceful_ he thought, and then remembered he was a demon, _Aziraphale really likes showing off for an audience_ , It was a shame he didn’t like to push people into doing this. _Only me_.

They joined together again, both concentrating on their specific parts, but both thinking on the mortal life, Aziraphale thinking of the ineffable way of his humans friends dead, both Franz and Walter, and possible Anne soon and the way they choose to live their time. Crowley thinking about the pleasures of the world, sleeping, eating, playing music, spending time with friends. And both of them thinking that they were here enjoying earth.

The notes started to sound higher, and filling all the Chinese Drawing Room and their expectators, most of them with their eyes close, some with tears on them, listened. They continued for the rest of the song concentrating only on their thoughts and on their instruments, both finishing with their notes lingering and lowering their sound.

The crowd started clapping and standing, Aziraphale leave the side of the piano and took Crowley’s hand, making a bow as the people approach them.

“Thank you” Said Anne hugging Aziraphale “Thank you Mr. Fell”

It had been a good melody to celebrate the earth, and of course the humans..

“I know my papa would’ve loved to hear you and you too Mr. Crowley. That was so exquisite thank you”

“Yes it was, you could almost said that you had been playing it all your life” Walter said, trying to hide the fact that he too had been moved by the melody “Hey Crowley will you play for the troops if you ever decided joining the military?"

“Ah that might be were i'll be next Scott”

“Well there! I thing we should hear Sophia and Anne play, you wanted to show your respects too i think dear girls” Said Aziraphale stopping the young gentlemen to start a wit quarrel.

Anne played the harp and Sophia sang for them, then after that they take turns to read poems and novels from Sir Walter Scott all of them remembering him.

The rest of the week Crowley spent exploring the house and the gardens, and eating and drinking. Some of the places have a little to much from the 14 century he gathered. Aziraphale spent most of his time on the library and talking with Sophia and Anne who had need of an angel. A little work wouldn't hurt anybody.

By the end of the month Crowley stated that he had business in London and that he would go back on Monday, Aziraphale said he too will need to return soon and they both leave Edinburg and returned home to London.

On their arrival it was Aziraphale who leave Crowley at his house.

“I am going back to sleep” Crowley said “And this time I hope is for more years. If there us another riot you better wake me up before leaving your holy trail over here.” And then as an afterthought he added “You know what, disregard that if there is a riot and I died I’ll meet you at your bookshop, I been doing to many good deeds this past weeks”.

“Well I could honour the arrangement Crowley, go to sleep, there is this electric new thing and you can claim it, I wont interfere when you decide to wake up it will be there.”

They parted ways. Aziraphale felt the occult force entering Morpheus arms, he knew how it felt to sleep but he really never saw the use.

It was not until 1846 that he felt the need to woke Crowley up, another composer by the name Franz Liszt had made an arrangement on Schubert’s melody for piano converting it now into a real Ave Maria prayer. He thought of the hilarity that the demons face will provided when he found out about this, but he knew it was better to leave him be, if this author could continue with the way he was going he could very well enter the gates of Heaven, and being probably the first one it will show Up There that he was doing a good job on earth no matter what Gabriel would like to report.

He hear a knock on the door, and sensing the nature of the intruder being human, he resign on that matter and resume to his book ignoring the fainted complaint of the person who was now walking away.


End file.
